


A Matter of Trust

by LadyDeb



Series: Worlds Apart [6]
Category: Torchwood, Transformers (2007)
Genre: F/M, Gen, a girl is becoming a woman, a kiss in a storage room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:59:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDeb/pseuds/LadyDeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lacey is withdrawn. Jack is worried. John and Rinna conspire to trap them in a room together to work out their differences. However, Lacey's claustrophobia kicks in. Uh-oh. . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sixth story in the Worlds Apart series, which fuses the Torchwood and Transformers universes. The previous five entries set up the relationship between Jack and the Keller family. I anticipate another two ‘stepping stone’ stories before we start meeting Suzie, Tosh, Owen, the rest of the Autobots and Decepticons, then Ianto and Gwen. This story grew out of an incident a few months ago, where I ended up trapped in a room the size of a small closet for eight hours. Unfortunately, Jack wasn't there, too. . .worse luck for me.

Disclaimer:  Jack Harkness and all things _Torchwood/Doctor Who_ belong to the BBC  & Starz.  Colonel John Keller belongs to _Transformers_ , as does Reginald Simmons (mentioned here as Drake Keller’s college roommate).  All else belongs to me.  Don’t mind if you borrow them, just return them to me, alive and intact and as close to unscathed as you can manage it.

 

Fort Campbell, KY

July 1993

 

Okay.  This was getting out of hand.

For the last year and a half, Corinna Winton Keller’s beautiful, brilliant eldest daughter had been behaving more like certain females of Rinna’s former acquaintance, rather than the bright, warm-hearted girl whom Rinna and her husband John raised.  And she didn’t like it, oh no, not at all.  The trouble was, there was nothing blatant or overt in her behavior, nothing that Rinna could specify.  But it was there, and Rinna and John weren’t the only ones who noticed.  Even Bronnie noticed it, and she was torn between her love for her sister and her adoration for their friend.

Lacey was avoiding Jack.  Not avoiding, as such, but whenever he asked questions of her about school or about boys she might be seeing, she’d quietly answer his questions, then change the subject to something that made her less uncomfortable.  Yes, that was it.  It was not so much that Lacey was skittish when Jack was mentioned. . .she was uncomfortable with him.  She knew that nothing happened between them to cause this.  Jack behaved toward Lacey as he always did.  And Lacey refused to acknowledge that she was acting any different than normal, citing being tired from her studies, and giving Bronnie a chance to talk to the family friend. 

John noticed it.  Bronnie noticed it.  Corinna noticed it.  She knew that Jack noticed it. . .and despite the hurt that flashed in his eyes, he never pushed Lacey’s boundaries.  He respected her wishes.  And it was that knowledge which colored the decision Rinna was making now.  For the last year and a half, she allowed her daughter to withdraw from Jack, but that would end.    Rinna knew that John wanted them to have more time to work things out, but she couldn’t bear to see her little girl hurting herself any more, much less hurting Jack.

So.  A course of action was required.  That much was decided.  The question was, what?  Obviously, Jack and Lacey needed to talk.  Equally obvious, her eldest would find a way not to talk to Jack, in the most polite way possible.  So, what would be the best way to arrange that meeting, in a way that neither could wriggle out of it?  Jack, for all his talk and flirting, would never ask more from Lacey than she could give, and if talking to him was more than she could give, he would walk away.  From that meeting, at least.  And of course, Lacey would balk at the arrangement of such a meeting, so this would require quite a lot of subtlety.  Fortunately, however, Corinna was the daughter of a diplomat, a military spouse, and the mother of three children.  Two virtues she had in abundance were subtlety and patience.  Or, as Jack teased her sometimes, sneakiness.  She could live with that as well.

 So far as she could see, her best option was to lock the pair of them in a closet until they worked out whatever was wrong (in other words, Lacey finally told Jack what was going on).  She didn’t like that particular option, since Lacey was seriously claustrophobic.  She wanted Lacey to admit why she was shutting out Jack (and everyone else, for that matter), not thoroughly traumatize her daughter.  All right.  So, what if she locked Jack and Lacey into a large-ish room?  Maybe a room the size of their living room or John’s office without all the furniture in it would be appropriate?  That way, she could avoid Lacey’s issues with small spaces and could still get them in a room together by themselves, no distractions, and force them to work things out. 

She actually had a pretty good idea what was troubling her daughter, but she needed additional information.  And, if she was right, Rinna only had herself to blame for Lacey’s discomfort with Jack:  she told her eldest the whole truth about Lucia Moretti’s flight from the States with Melissa.  To say that Lacey was disgusted with her former friend’s mother was something of an understatement.  There was no doubt in the mother’s mind that some of Lacey’s issues stemmed from her protective nature.  It would be just like her little girl to keep Jack at arm’s length in order to ‘protect’ him.  From what, Rinna had no idea.  Maybe her own rage, even if it was directed at Lucia, rather than Jack himself?  In truth, Rinna hadn’t seen her that angry since the morning after her Home-coming Dance, once the shock and horror wore off.  Rinna was just grateful that her rage was directed at her would-have-been assailants, rather than Rinna and John for lying to her for so long.  For some reason, Lacey understood why they lied to her. . .or maybe not just _some_ reason.  She was now lying to her cousin about Jack’s resurrection, so she understood all too well.

There was still the matter of the other individual involved in this particular mess.  However, since her maternal instincts were telling her that it was her dear baby brother-in-law, once she received confirmation, she’d let John deal with Drake.  The little brat never could keep his mouth shut, and he got worse every time he met up with his college roommate Reginald.  Normally, she overlooked Drake’s little foibles and quirks, but this time, she was afraid he hurt her friend and her child.  And no one got away with hurting any of Rinna’s children.  Not even their uncle.

But that had to wait until she arranged the meeting between Jack and Lacey.  She had a feeling that meeting would answer all of her questions, even the ones she wasn’t aware of having.  So.  Her first order of business was to find a room big enough that wouldn’t set off her daughter’s claustrophobia.  She should talk to her husband’s aide, he might have some ideas.  Maybe in the youth center or. . .or what about the storage area of the skating rink where Lacey worked during the summer?  Rinna’s mind was whirring away.  Yes, that would work.  Lacey would already be there, so the trick would be in getting Jack there.  And that’s where Gino would come into play.  She wasn’t worried about Gino helping.  He was always up for whatever she suggested.  His job was to make her husband’s job and life easier.  That usually included helping Rinna.

Before she called Gino, she would call Lacey’s boss at the rink.  There was no doubt in her mind that he would help her.  Especially if she timed it so that a shipment arrived at the rink at the same time.  Rinna nodded slowly, thoughtfully, as the plan came together in her mind.  She would need a few days to get everything in place, but fortunately, Jack was in town already.  That would make thing easier.  And if she was able to arrange everything properly, the entire thing would go smoothly.

Unless, of course, it didn’t.

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

Why did he agree to this again?  Oh, right.  Rinna promised him answers about why Lacey was behaving so strangely.  Unfortunately, she left out the part where she and John locked him and Lacey into a storage room at the skating rink where their daughter worked.  Ordinarily, being trapped in a room with someone attractive wouldn’t have bothered Captain Jack Harkness.  However, Lacey wasn’t just anyone attractive, she was his best friend’s daughter, had been his own daughter’s friend once, and thus settled into that very small category that he considered ‘off-limits.’  And while claustrophobia wasn’t an issue for Jack, the same wasn’t true of Lacey.  This he knew, even before being locked in the store room and seeing her pace back and forth.  This, of course, was after she spent ten minutes, banging on the door and screaming to be let out.

There were, Jack discovered, fifty paces from one end of the room to the other.  Fifty paces by Lacey’s strides, at least, given that her legs were shorter than Jack’s.  For his own part, Jack was comfortably sprawled in an old office chair that was moved from the office about six months earlier, watching Lacey pace back and forth.  This made the sixth. . .no, seventh trip this way.  Speaking for the first time since realizing he and Lacey were locked in here (and yes, he could have easily broken out, but John and Rinna went through a lot of trouble to set this up), Jack observed quietly, “They won’t let us out until we’ve worked this out, Lacey.  Just tell me whatever I did to upset you, and we’ll go from there.  I can’t help if I don’t know.”

She paused from pacing long enough to shoot an incredulous glare at him, and then went back to pacing.  _Oookay, so that didn’t work_.  She said on her next pass, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jack.  This is just something I have to deal with, okay?  If you want to help, why don’t you tell me about what you and Gino talked about on the way over?  Yes, I know his rank is Captain, but he told me that if he was out of uniform, he was Gino.  So, why don’t you tell me all about it?  I know he’s one hundred fifty percent straight, but he’s also gorgeous.  Let me deal with my issues, and at the risk of sounding clichéd, it’s not you, it’s me.”

The first thing that occurred to Jack was that she stole his line.  The second thing that occurred to him was that she was trying to distract him.  All right.  He would let her off the hook for now.  Maybe if he started talking, she’d be the one distracted and he could finally get the truth out of her.  Jack replied, “Yeah, he _is_ gorgeous.  Do you know by chance if he has a girlfriend?”  Lacey raised her eyes at him and Jack held up his hands, adding, “Just checking, because I have a friend, a female friend, who is looking for a nice Italian boy.  Newsflash, darlin,’ I’m not on the pull _all_ the time.  You should know that about me by now.”

He couldn’t quite keep the hurt out of his voice, something that always bothered him about the Kellers.  They made it damned hard for him to keep his feelings hidden away, and they were never distracted by his usual defense mechanisms.  Her face softened as she replied, “Of course I do, I’m sorry.  And no, Gino is one hundred percent available.  What’s your friend’s name, so I can put in a good word for her?  Unless you already did that on the way over?”   She raised her eyebrows at him questioningly.

“Laura.  She’s third generation Italian-American, and no, not yet.  We were busy discussing his family and you,” Jack replied.  That got him another pause, and Jack elaborated, “Gino wanted to know why a smart, pretty girl like you wasn’t involved with anyone.”  Lacey rolled her eyes and began to pace once more.  Okay, not quite ready to talk then.  So, Jack continued his monologue, segueing from his conversation with Gino in the car to stories about his most recent mission for  Torchwood, and Brigadier Alistair Lethridge-Stewart’s assurances that he would be able to go home soon to Cardiff.  Jack continued to talk, but noticed the sudden hesitation in Lacey’s steps, in the way her shoulders seemed to brace against a blow when he mentioned returning to Cardiff.

However, she said nothing and kept pacing, kept listening.  The room grew steadily warmer as the sunlight filtered through the window, and Jack shucked the greatcoat.  It was then that he made his mistake. . .or maybe it wasn’t a mistake after all.  He loosened his collar and relaxed further into the chair, relaxed his guard.  Sitting in the sunlight was making him sleepy, a thought that made him smile.  People occasionally compared him to a cat, which wasn’t entirely untrue.  And for the second time, Lacey stiffened, but kept moving.  Now, however, her movements seemed more agitated.  _Much_ more agitated, as she was when she first realized that her parents got her boss to help them in their little conspiracy.  She hadn’t appreciated that.  At all.

There were more than a thousand reasons why he should have left it alone.  But he was tired of hearing what wasn’t the problem, instead of what was.  He’d been worried about Lacey for months, and he wasn’t going to let her continue ducking the issue.  Leaning back a little further in his chair, he asked sleepily, “Enough of the stalling, Lacey-girl.  What’s wrong?”  The footsteps stopped abruptly.  Too abruptly.  Jack sat up straight in the chair, to find Lacey staring at him.  And. . .what was that look in her eyes?  He shifted uneasily, and realized for the first time. . .  _Oh, hell._   He was an idiot.  He relaxed just a little too much, it would seem, and now. . .

He stood up, intending to correct the mistake he made, but there was no time.  The girl who spent the last two hours pacing aimlessly now had a purpose to her strides:  him.  And under any normal circumstances (read:  with any other individual), he would have welcomed the way Lacey was looking at him right now, would have welcomed the deliberate strides she took toward him.  He had just enough time to take a breath, and then. . .and then small hands were gripping his braces, propelling him backward into the wall.  He never had the chance to say a word, because Lacey’s mouth was sealed over his own, kissing him breathless.

His arms wound around her, stabilizing them both until he could get them both into the chair.  His timing couldn’t have been better. . .as soon as his legs hit the chair, his knees gave way, and they both collapsed into the seat.  Lacey’s kisses were a bit uncoordinated, but incredibly enthusiastic, and ... _oh God_.  Jack moaned as her knee slid between his thighs in a manner that would have resulted in agony with just a little bit more force.  Her fingers were sliding through his hair, her other hand cupping the back of his neck, drawing his head down, and oh god, this felt entirely too good, never mind that she was Melissa’s age, never mind all of it. . .

And then, Lacey broke the kiss, whispering, “That’s what’s wrong, Jack, that’s why I’ve been distancing myself.  I’ve wanted to do that for so long, but I couldn’t do anything about it, I couldn’t take the risk of hurting you.”  _Wh ... what_?  Jack tried desperately to re-engage his brain, which was being sluggish at best.  It didn’t help when Lacey began trailing kisses along his jaw and down the column of his throat.  And it especially didn’t help that as she continued to kiss him, she breathed against his skin, “Uncle Drake told me that I probably wasn’t really attracted to you, that it probably was just your pheromones, and if that was the case, I couldn’t bear to hurt you.  Couldn’t bear for you to think that I was using you.”  She brushed her lips against the pulse points in his jaw and throat.

Jack’s mind finally kicked into gear and he groaned, “Protected.  . .protected you from. . .oh God, Lacey.  Protected you from pheromones.”  He groaned again when Lacey pulled back, but this time it was out of relief.  She thought. . .well, why wouldn’t she think that it was pheromones?  He was very subtle about tucking her head against his chest when he hugged her.  She stared at him, still sitting in his lap where she landed once he collapsed into the chair.  Jack used those precious seconds to catch his breath and force his body to stop reacting to Lacey.  The last thing he needed to do was to traumatize the poor girl.  Especially when she finally processed what he said.

“You. . .you protected me, us, from your pheromones?” Lacey asked in a very small voice.  Jack nodded, still struggling to catch his breath, and Lacey whispered, eyes growing glassy with tears, “I put us both through all of this for nothing?  Oh, Alexandra, you _moron_!  If I just asked you, instead of being such a stupid brat, but I was afraid of what would happen if Uncle Drake was right, I couldn’t trust myself, no matter how much I trusted you. . .oh, Jack, I’m so sorry.  I’m so, so sorry!”  Her voice broke on the last word and Jack could only draw her against his chest and let her cry out her exhaustion, frustration and mortification.  He found he couldn’t be angry with her. . .maybe he should have been, though she did tell him that it was nothing he did wrong.  But she only kept him at arm’s length to protect him, to protect them both.  She would probably slap him if he ever said it aloud, but Jack thought that was one of the sweetest things ever done for him.  His hurt was dissipating, and something much warmer was taking its place.  He would figure that out later.  He had a Lacey-Lace to take care of right now.

As her sobs quieted and she burrowed against his body, he finally asked, “How long?”  This was wrong, it was all wrong.  She was only nineteen years old, just a baby compared to him.  The same age Rose was when he spotted her hanging from that barrage balloon in 1941 London.  But Rose wasn’t. . .whatever Lacey was to him.  He hadn’t been there when Rose was born.  And he wasn’t well over a hundred years old when Rose was born. . .the first time, at least, in his original timeline.  She wasn’t Rose, but he felt as lost now as when he fell in love with Rose and the Doctor, so many decades earlier.

“Since I stopped seeing you as just our friend and someone I might trust enough to sleep with?” Lacey asked.  _Ouch._   However, he nodded and Lacey continued, resting her head on his shoulder, “I guess it started after that disaster of a Homecoming Dance.  Remember, you came to our house a few days later and had me get back into the dress, and we danced in the living room to _Heaven_.  I think that’s where it started.  And then you started teaching me how to shoot.”  There was a long pause, and then she whispered, “I guess I had my first erotic dream about you a few nights after our first lesson.  I was mortified.”  He held her a little tighter, and Lacey sighed, “I’m sorry, Jack.  I all but attacked you.  I wouldn’t blame you at all if you were angry with me.”

“Not angry with you, sweetheart, angry with myself.  I probably should have put the pieces together a long time ago.  Not like me to miss such obvious signs.  So much for the dashing hero, huh?  Lace. . . you know this can’t go any further, at least not right now?” he asked, barely stifling another moan as Lacey’s fingers began mapping his ribs and back and shoulders.  Dammit, she wasn’t playing fair!  Then again, why would he expect her to do anything else?  She just told him that she had wanted him for at least three years. . .three years. 

Oh, his poor Lacey.  She was growing up in a time that wasn’t as sexually repressed as past decades, but still nothing like the fifty-first century.  And to her, sex was meant for someone she loved, someone she respected, someone she trusted.  Trust.  That was the entire key, right there.  She had to trust someone, and Lacey did have some trust issues.  That was thanks in no small part to those little brats who ruined her Homecoming, to say nothing of one of Jack’s shirts.  Lacey whispered, breath soft against his neck, “I know.  Everyone knows that Jack Harkness will shag anyone or anything as long as they’re gorgeous.  And I’m not.”

Oh, that _hurt_.  More than the assumption that he really never bothered to clear up (that was half the fun, after all), it hurt that this sweet girl assumed that because she wasn’t classically beautiful, that somehow made her not good enough for Jack.  Hell, if anything, _he_ wasn’t good enough for _her_!  He pressed a kiss into her hair, whispering, “Wrong, sweetheart.  I will most likely hate myself for this before the end of the night, but I can’t take you to bed, no matter how much my body wants me to.  Not because you’re not beautiful, but because you’re nineteen years old, you’re the daughter of my two best friends, and you. . .”  He struggled with a way to gently remind her just how inexperienced she was.  She let it slip to him that she was still a virgin, and Jack just couldn’t bring himself to. . .not yet.

Lacey lifted her head from his shoulder, asking softly, “It’s not because I’m not pretty?”  Jack shook his head vehemently, cupping her face with one hand.  He stroked her face, wiping away her tears with his thumb.  He wasn’t sure how to explain that he found something beautiful in nearly everyone and everything but those who would harm him and his.  It could be something in a being’s smile or the way trousers or a skirt would move about that individual’s ankles or impossibly beautiful eyes, but there was something beautiful, something brilliant, something amazing about all of his bed partners over the years.  Even the ones who broke his heart.

“Not even close, Lacey-Lace.  And this isn’t a ‘no,’ but a ‘not yet.’  Maybe, in a few years, when you’re a little older and I’m less likely to be used as a punching bag by your father. . .to say nothing of your mother. . .maybe it’ll be different then.  But I want you to remember one thing, and never forget it.  Even if it’s not meant to be, that doesn’t make you any less desirable.  All right?  This is very important, Alexandra Elizabeth,” Jack told her seriously.  Lacey’s dark eyes never left his face and she nodded very slowly in understanding.  Nor did she protest that her parents would never do that, he noticed.  He drew her head to rest back on his shoulder, and she willingly cuddled against him.  He kissed the top of her head, murmuring, “One thing I don’t understand is why we haven’t moved. . .I think we can find a more comfortable place for our conversation.”  Not that he would argue.  Clearly, Lacey was comfortable right where she was.

He felt her smile against his neck and she whispered, “I’m in one of my most favorite places, Jack, where I always know I’m safe.”  He couldn’t help raising his eyebrows and smirking a little at that comment.  _What, in the storage room of her work place_?  Lacey pulled back, as if she heard what he was thinking, and said firmly, “Your lap.”  And then she probably removed all semblance of safety by squirming in his lap.  It took all of Jack’s self-control to keep from groaning aloud, with considerable aid from his teeth nearly biting through his lower lip.  As it was, his eyes did roll back in his head, and Lacey breathed, “Oh, I’m sorry!  I wasn’t thinking!”  She touched his cheeks, forcing his attention back to her face, and she repeated, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make things worse for you!”

He managed a smile that felt more like a grimace and answered hoarsely, “That’s why my answer is ‘not yet,’ sweetheart.  You’re not ready, and honestly, neither am I.  Okay?”  Lacey nodded so hard, Jack was sure that her head would come off her shoulders.  He took another deep breath, then asked, “Mind if I move to the floor?  I don’t think this chair can keep our combined weight for much longer.”  Lacey’s eyes narrowed briefly, and for that brief second, Jack was afraid he would end up on the receiving end of a Winton slap, which could put the Tyler slap to shame.  Then the girl’s face softened into wry amusement and she slid out of his lap.  Jack sighed with relief, and then settled on the floor beside the chair.  He held out a hand in invitation to his companion, and Lacey once more settled on his lap, nestling her head against his shoulder.  He wrapped his arms around her, and they settled together.

Looking at things logically, he was being stupid.  She was two years older than Estelle was when he met that beautiful girl, but again.  He didn’t watch Estelle grow up.  And Lacey knew who he was, she knew what he was.  She knew that he couldn’t die (couldn’t stay dead) and didn’t age.  The only thing she didn’t know about was the Doctor or how the Time Lord was the only being who could tell Jack what happened to him, or if he could ever die.  And he wasn’t quite ready to tell her.  There were some things that she wasn’t ready to know, some things that he wasn’t ready to tell her, no matter how dear she was to him.  And so, they sat in silence, Lacey’s fingers lightly stroking his back.  But these caresses were soothing, rather than seductive, and Jack’s eyes slowly closed.  He was on the verge of falling asleep when Lacey asked softly, “You protected all three of us from your pheromones?”  Jack blinked his eyes open, mentally shaking himself, and refocused his attention on her question.  _Ahh.  Right.  Yeah_.

“Once you turned thirteen, and became more vulnerable to my pheromones, I started holding you differently.  Means I did it right, since you didn’t notice.  Didn’t realize that your uncle knew anything about me, though,” Jack murmured.  Although, he should have.  The first time he met Drake, the younger man shocked everyone, including Drake himself, by doing the same thing as Lacey. . .grabbed his braces, slammed him into the wall and kissed him breathless.  Shocked everyone except Jack, of course. 

 There was a semi-ladylike snort, and Lacey replied, “He told me about meeting you about six months before I was born, and snogging you.  My first thought was, ‘ _he got the drop on Jack_?’  Then I remembered that at that time, he was taller than you, since he wasn’t in the wheelchair, and he took you by surprise.”  The immortal couldn’t help but laugh at that.  He heard the laughter in Lacey’s voice as she continued, “Anyhow, when I told him that I was having dreams about you, that I realized I was starting to have feelings for you, he cautioned me about your pheromones.  I’d never really thought about it and I guess I panicked just a bit.”

“Just a bit?” Jack teased gently, biting back a yelp when Lacey’s fingers brushed his sides with the intent to tickle.  He mock-growled at her, “Do not start something if you can’t finish, Lacey-girl, ‘cause I _don’t_ fight fair.”  She drew back, just far enough so that they were facing each other, and offered him an impish grin.  However, she did desist and snuggled back against his chest.  Once more, a comfortable silence fell between them.  No words were used, none were needed.  There was a comfort to that.  He pressed a light kiss to her dark hair, and once more, began drifting toward a light doze.  Now that the adrenaline was dropping off, so was his energy, and Jack was finding that he was just as exhausted as Lacey.  It occurred to him that he didn’t remind her about Cardiff, or mention Alistair’s assurance that he would be going home soon. 

But soon was a relative term for him. . .and he wasn’t sure where Lacey would fall once it came time for him to leave.  But they did enough heavy-duty talking for one day.  Sometime before that day came, he would remind her.  It was the least he owed her and her family.  After their years of friendship, their refusal to abandon him, no matter what he did. . .it was the absolute least he owed them.  It was a measure of just how tired they both were by the fallout of the confrontation that neither heard the locked door click open. . .much less see the couple who tiptoed into the room.  Jack and Lacey were each lost in their own dreams.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

“I am going to _kill_ your baby brother.”  This was said through tightly-clenched teeth, and only someone with no knowledge whatsoever of the woman speaking would have ever believed that she was smiling, rather than grimacing.

“No, sweetheart, I actually get first dibs on killing Drake.  Older brother privileges and such. Shhh. . .I was right, they did fall asleep.  No, don’t wake them!  God, what kind of a father am I?  It never even occurred to me that Lacey was attracted to Jack,” Colonel John Keller murmured as he slipped into the storage where his daughter and his best friend now rested on the floor.  Not surprisingly, Jack held Lacey in his lap, long legs stretched out in front of him and his head resting against the wall.  For Lacey’s part, she was snuggled contently against his chest, for the moment looking like she was eight years old again.

 But that was the problem, wasn’t it?  She wasn’t eight years old anymore, she was nineteen and her life-long affection for Jack was turning to desire.  John could only imagine how terrified she must have been when she realized her feelings for Jack were changing.  Corinna whispered, squeezing his forearm, “You’re a wonderful father, John Keller, and I won’t allow you to say otherwise.  Our poor little girl. . .if anyone deserves being called a lousy parent, it’s me.  I suspected that Drake did or said something that caused Lacey to withdraw, and instead of asking her about it directly, I let it fester. . .and then forced her into a situation that made her even more uncomfortable.  Anxious from being shut in the storage room, alone with Jack, and his pheromones finally took effect on her. . . I’m just glad we can reassure her that her job’s in no danger.  I’m not sure she would forgive us if this little stunt got her fired.”

“I was tempted to remind you that Lacey could have told us, and then I remembered:  we would be the last people she wanted to talk to about this.  Being totally honest, I’m not sure if I could have handled that particular conversation.  Hell, I was embarrassed enough asking Gino why he didn’t have an issue with Jack, I don’t want to think about how I would have reacted to Lacey telling us that she was dreaming about Jack as a ‘dance’ partner,” John replied, shaking his head.  Rinna squeezed his arm again, and John kissed her forehead, still staring at his daughter and dearest friend.

“Thank you for reminding me, why doesn’t Gino react badly to Jack’s flirting?  I could understand it if he was our age, but he’s only a few years older than Lacey,” Rinna observed softly as she and her husband backed out of the storage room and began heading back to the office to inform Lacey’s boss that his storage room would be available for use in another hour or so.  Rinna slid her hand into John’s as they walked down the corridor, and as he always did, he squeezed her hand.  She squeezed back, making him smile at her.  However, he hadn’t answered her question about Gino just yet, and she reminded him of that.

“His father went in at the same time I did, late fifties and early sixties.  Yeah, Victor Iannucci is a macho Italian-American, and he probably wouldn’t be comfortable with Jack, but he was always a professional.  He raised his sons and daughters the same way,” John replied and Rinna nodded her understanding.  She was ten years younger than he was, but she remembered the stories he told her of his first years in the service.  John continued after a moment, “And when all is said and done, Jack’s never unpleasant with his attentions.  Oh, he still flirts with you and me, but that’s just the way he is.  He always will, even when we’re both old and gray.  Gino understands that. . .it’s why he’s my aide.”

The husband and wife continued walking, each lost in their own thoughts.  Finally, Rinna asked softly, “What do we do, John, when that day comes?  When the stars are in the right alignment, and our Lacey is ready to lose her virginity?”  John winced.  He really didn’t want to think about that.  No father wanted to think about that part of their daughter’s journey to womanhood.  Unfortunately, he also couldn’t _not_ think about it.  There was a part of him which wanted to beat the hell out of Jack.  It wasn’t fair, but it was also far from the first time he had been unfair to Jack.  And the stronger part. . .

“We trust them, Rinna,” John replied at least and Rinna looked up at him questioningly.  He nodded, repeating, “We trust them.  We trust Jack to do right by Lacey, and we trust Lacey to remember how we raised her.  Jack’s already more than fulfilled our trust in him. . .otherwise, he would have taken her to bed tonight, as his instincts were yelling at him to do.  Lacey is fulfilling our trust in her by accepting what Jack wanted.  We trust them, Rinna, and be ready to pick up the pieces.”  Because if there was one thing John had learned about his friend over the last thirty years, it was that Jack was a helluva lot more vulnerable than he let on.  Yes, Jack could break Lacey’s heart. . .but it was also possible that Lacey could break Jack’s heart.  He hoped not.  She wouldn’t mean to, but. . .  No.  He would trust Jack, and he would trust his daughter.  There was no other option for him.

 FIN


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